


Oo-Moxturbation

by Reyka_Sivao



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Crack, Ferengi, Gratuitous Smut, Humor, Masturbation, Oo-mox, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28050093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reyka_Sivao/pseuds/Reyka_Sivao
Summary: More Bad Porn™Quark takes his lobes into his own hands in exactly the way you’re thinking.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	Oo-Moxturbation

Quark sat back in his quarters after another long hard day of watching his employees work and grinned in satisfaction until his teeth made jagged shadows on the inside of his mouth, not that he noticed because his eyes were on the outside of his face. This was fairly common among Ferengi. 

It had been a good day. He’d managed to get a group of Klingons to buy out his stock of bloodwine after he offered them a “special price” on it, without them realizing it was twice his normal price. He was still riding the high from that one, and had been trying to conceal his profit-boner all day.

In fact…

Quark groaned as he undid his gold-pressed-latinum-plated belt and let down his pants, offering up a silent prayer of gratitude that his creator and executive producer had been such a horndog that his entire species had been deliberately envisioned with absolutely enormous penises. 

He looked down at his pleasure hammer with accompanying southern lobes, and considered for a moment. 

But no, he had a better idea. 

Settling back into his favorite plush chair, Quark let his home-grown Staff of the Grand Nagus point towards the ceiling and raised his hands toward his lobes. 

He paused for just a second to savor his ears twitching in anticipation like they’d just heard a chance for a solid, only marginally illegal deal. 

One blue fingernail brushed against his cartilage before actually meant it to, and Quark shivered and let out a sound halfway between an erotic moan and a terrified squeak. 

Thanking the invisible hand of the market that he was alone, he cleared his throat and started more deliberately stroking his outer lobes. 

He managed to be a little quieter, but his mouth kept contorting into increasingly ridiculous shapes, starting with O and D, continuing through S and X, and somehow landing on a glorious cursive &. 

“Ah, ah!” he said, coherently. But it still wasn’t enough. Not for what this glorious day deserved. 

Reluctantly, he removed his hands from his ears, letting them rest for an agonizing eternity while he blindly reached over to open the bottom drawer of the end table next to him. 

Slowly, he pulled out one of his most treasured possessions, not that he would ever admit it, given how little it was monitarily worth. 

It was a long, thin, almost spectrally-delicate feather. 

Reverently, Quark held it up in front of himself, trying to decide which side to start with. 

His right ear throbbed more urgently, so that decided him.

Very gently, he let just the tip of the feather enter his ear canal. 

The fronds of the feather tickled the innards of his lobes, but he wanted more. MORE. 

Further. Further in. 

He almost gagged as the feather dug deeper into his inner walls. It was overwhelming in a way that was both agony and also really, REALLY hot. 

Meanwhile, his penis was also standing at attention and ready to salute. 

Exactly what biological mechanism linked Ferengi lobes with their dicks, Quark really didn’t know, but he also very much didn’t care. Honestly, at this point, he would have sold his bar for a penny if it got him an orgasm. Which was, of course, why he never allowed competitors to perform oo-mox, and why he would absolutely do it to anyone given the opportunity. 

He let his other hand caress the outside of his left lobe, and made a mental note to acquire a second feather at the earliest opportunity. 

The fronds went deeper still, and finally reached their goal, and brushed with excruciating gentleness against his tympanic membrane. 

“AHHH!” he said eloquently as the dangers of tympanic rupture were precisely the furthest thing from his mind. He was much more focused on the massive fountain of semen suddenly erupting from his nethers. 

Eventually the geyser slowed, and Quark panted like a pair of trousers. 

Oh yes. THIS was the perfect way to end an excellent day. 

Quark was just starting to sit up and consider putting away his rapidly softening jizz phaser when there was a sound up high on the wall. 

He looked up just in time to see the cover of the ventilation shaft lift itself up on its hinges, and a much-too-long, much-too-familiar face stick out of it. 

“CAN’T AN HONEST BUSINESSMAN HAVE ANY PRIVACY AROUND HERE, CONSTABLE?!” said Quark, trying to stuff his junk back into the relative safety of his clothing. 

Odo harumphed somewhere in the neck sticking out the vent. “I wouldn’t know, let me know when you meet one. But have you seen any unusual activity?”

“YES,” said Quark. “BUT NOT UNTIL YOU STUCK YOUR FACE IN.”

Odo opened his mouth to respond, but right then a drop of Ferengi jizz that had hit the ceiling elected to let go, and fall straight into Odo’s over-extended head. 

Odo’s eyes stuck out to look up. Quark had frozen with his mouth in a nearly non-Euclidean shape of horror. 

There was approximately a century of silence. 

“Well,” said Odo. “Let me know if you see anything.” 

His neck coiled back into the vent like a tractor beam had caught it, and Quark sagged back so bonelessly into his chair that he nearly slid off onto the floor. 

“Oh, also…”

Quark flailed around as Odo’s head stuck back out the vent one time. 

“...I had no idea you were capable of emitting such quantities of...fluid.”

“ODO—!”

But he was already gone again. 

Quark harumphed, put his precious feather back in the bottom drawer, and began plotting to make his next business deal ESPECIALLY annoying. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
